Category: the Rant Board
I told you I had two things to post, this here's the second one, and this is all you're getting from me for a while.
In the name of opening up another can of worms concerning all things visual impairment, this sticks in my mind as well as what I discussed in the previous post. You've seen and read and shared and maybe even written these posts, these lists of ways sighted people can better interact with us. I know I've shared a few myself. But the one thing that always sticks with me is this. Is it all about the help? So often even our discussions about relating to sighted people seem to put sighted people in the helper position. Even when we blind folks might wonder why sighted folks act the way they do, a common answer is, "they want to help but don't know how." Help? Help precisely with what and why, and furthermore, if there was no help needed or expected, what then? Both blind and sighted people seem to be guilty of this world view, and I suspect that with some sighted folks, they believe helping is the only way they can relate. I think there is an assumption that blind people live in a world so much apart from everyone else that we can't possibly share the same tastes or interests with anyone in the rest of the world. Or is it perhaps not that, but it is maybe believed that if you get to know a blind person personally, some social law is broken or something bad will happen, or is it just superstition, like not naming a chicken that will eventually be put into the stew pot. It puzzles me. It's like people seem eager, many times much too eager to help, as long as it's a fairly anonymous transaction, let's call it what it is, and it happens one time. It can seem as if, at least in my own experience, sighted folks who want to take it past the one-time anonymous helper stage are rarities. Part of the problem well may be the viewpoint of blindness as "worse than death" as if death isn't bad enough for most people. Utterly irrational. You can adapt to vision loss or reduction, you cannot adapt to death. So perhaps we're seen on the same level as people who have only so many days or weeks to live, even if we're fit as fiddles and intend to stay that way until our bodies give out. Or, could it be the idea that merely to interact with a blind person is an act only doable by the most virtuous of people. Again, nothing but bafflement on this end. Many blind people have dreams of just being generic invisible people, not standing out, to blend in so well that you can't tell them from any sighted person. They will hang out with the coolest and most attractive sighted friends, date attractive sighted people and maybe find one to marry. How is that going to happen when, it can seem on the sighted side of things, they see themselves as Mighty Mouse come to save the day for a blind person but not just a friend or a potential date or lover, especially when there are all manner of standard ordinary normal sighted people, just like them, easy to relate to and who might want to become more than friends? Are blind people dreaming too big then? Or, are sighted folks guilty of seeing blind folks, not so much as people but as more kindof needy creatures but who don't want much else out of life.
Unfortunately, I think it's all of the above. We're seen by much of society as invisible, incompetent, incapable, sick, pitiable, charity cases, or some combination of the above. We're not seen as whole people, and we're not seen as individuals (all blind people must play piano, all blind people must like to feel the faces of others, etc.). Many who offer help, whether it's needed or not and whether it's a one-time thing or not, do so out of some moral or religious obligation, or to feel good about themselves. But you know what's even sadder? Sometimes I think that even the people who take the time to get to know us and who consider us friends are guilty of these attitudes on a subconscious level. I think some of them would always choose to hang out with their nondisabled friends over their disabled ones when given the choice. And as for relationships, from strictly physical to completely emotionally attached, I don't think we even register as potentials with many people. We're seen as nonsexual beings and incapable of having meaningful romantic connections... by our own friends. And I don't even think they know they're doing it.
Ya know, we can make all the lists for them that we want, but it all boils down to one thing: just use your damn common sense.
Becky
Common sense? What's that? Lol.
Common sense is a thing of the past.
Blessings,
Sarah
I wonder if common sense ever was really that common
Becky put it well, and said a lot of what I planned to. Like her, I think it is a combination of everything you wrote. I remember being at a mental health first aid training a few months ago, and a pile of cards was given to the group. on each card was an event that could happen to a person which might cause grief and/or mental health problems. Things like cancer, Alzheimer's (sorry if I slaughtered that spelling), death of a loved one, loss of a job, and yes, in there was also loss of vision. The group was asked to line up the cards in the order of least to most catastrophic event in their opinions. I was simultaneously surprised and not surprised, if that makes any sense whatsoever, to see vision loss listed as the most catastrophic by nearly every person in the group. Surprised because of course I know that while losing one's vision in later life would certainly cause a period of grief, depression, and major transition, I also know it's not the end of the world. NOt surprised because I've heard and seen multiple times over the years that most of sighted society considers blindness to be a worse fate than cancer or death. But if I ever needed the proof, there it sat in the order of those cards. It was actually pretty hard not to take offense. The trainer saw the look on my face and asked me to elaborate, so I did, in the most professional way I knew how while still making my point. The interesting thing was, after I was done speaking, a lot of people rearranged their cards. LOL.
I tell that story simply to say that you're right, most of society does see us as broken, miserable beings. They can't imagine how they'd live their life in our position, so of course they must help in some way. And because they see us that way, it is very hard for them to believe that we would actually have a life outside our disability, an interest in culture, books, movies, (especially movies and TV), relationships that have nothing to do with our disability, and so on. They can't conceive that they'd have any life outside of blindness, so how can we? They don't think they have common ground to get to know us, so don't try beyond the offers of assistance when they assume we need it.
I think the posts by blind people about help are a response to this. Perhaps we should focus on other things in our posts, but I believe many of us don't feel like we can, since we're so busy trying to change the way sighted people perceive us. But you have given me some food for thought. Perhaps one of the ways we can change their opinions are by posting things that are completely unrelated to blindness, disability, or help. Maybe that would demonstrate to friends, family, or strangers who read what we put out there that we do, in fact, have lives outside our disability, and interests like those mentioned above. Most of our posts are quick to ask people to acknowledge that we do, and yet some of us rarely actually post about those books, movies, TV shows, outings with friends, and so on. Maybe we actually perpetuate the problem in our zeal to change public perception. I wonder if it becomes kind of a vicious cycle? Hmmmm.
I've also met blind people who just want to blend in, and so do things like you said: only have sighted friends, only date sighted partners, and basically shun the blind populace. I don't think that's any more healthy than people who go the other way, and only date other blind people, have blind friends, and devote their lives to all things blindness related. But as to the first group, the fact is, we will stand out. While I'd like people to view my blindness as simply a part of who I am and not my defining characteristic, I'd be an idiot to think I could just blend in and people won't nitice, won't ask questions, and will interact with me without it being an issue sometimes. Sure, it'd be nice if it didn't have to be one, but that's not the world in which we live. So, I fill my life with both sighted and blind friends, volunteering both in areas not at all related to disability while also being a part of a blindness organization, and basically try to strike a balance. If I want people to see my blindness as just one part of the whole person I am, then that's how I need to live my life.
OK, done now.
Nope, not quite done after all. In kind of a continuation of that last point, sometimes we as blind people are also guilty of not taking things to the next level in interacting with the sighted populace. I guarantee you I've been guilty of this, using sighted people for asking directions, reading something, driving me somewhere, whatever, without actually trying to get to know the person and maybe make a friend beyond the assistance they are providing me because they happen to have working eyes. I'm thinking about why I do this, and maybe why other blind people do it. One reason may be that we simply get sick of educating, explaining, and going through all the prerequisites that seem to need to occur in order to get to know someone beyond that initial sighted/blind person, helper/recipient level. Sometimes I just don't have the energy for that dance again, and so don't bother trying to do it. Sometimes I get tired of the blindness being an issue. I remember that I didn't know a lot of other blind kids until the age of 16 when I attended SCIVIS, Space Camp for Interested Visually Impaired Students. That week I got my first experience where I made, or didn't make, friends based on pretty much anything but blindness, because that was the common denominator we all had, and damn it was refreshing. Sometimes I've been guilty of seeing a sighted person strictly as a tool for getting something done, not as a person with their own life and interests that I just might have in common with them. I know very well I'm not the only blind person who has done this. I see blind people treat sighted ones like their tools all the time. I've tried to become more conscious of this, and not do it as often as I did in my 20's. While I positively can't stand person-first language and the politically correct mind-set that birthed that annoying phenomenon, (can you tell I have a soap box about that?), the one thing that crowd does have right is that all of us are people first, and disabled or able-bodied second.
“Many blind people have dreams of jjust being generic invisible people, not standing out, to bblend in so well that you can’t tell them from any sighted person. They will hang out with the coolest and mmost attractive sighted friends, date attractive sighted people and maybe find one to marry.” Hmm. I could probably be on the couch for quite a while over this statement because I admit that I’ve had this conflict over the years. It’s not necessarily right, but I think it’s a natural reaction to both being blind and to how we’re treated. And maybe how we treat ourselves and each other, which incidentally has to do with how we treat blindness. I didn’t know that many blind people myself until I was in my late teens, and frankly, sometimes I was a little nervous around some of them. Since I was a musician and since the people I hung out with tended to be a little older than I (sometimes significantly so), I usually found a little more acceptance, ironically enough, in those people. My blindness wasn’t an issue; not nearly so much as it was around my peers when I was in high school, so I didn’t even hang out with people my own age that mmuch until I was in college. The underlying message that I often got, and it was admittedly subtle, was that I was somehow a little better than the quote end-quote average blind person, so why hang out with “those people?” Again, not right, but I wonder how many of us, depending on how we were raised, got that message. Very fortunately, I grew out of that in time when I got into college and became increasingly more exposed to other blind/disabled people. I think we’re judged rather harshly by much of the sighted. If we’re born blind or become blind relatively young in life, it starts early. Maybe there are two basic reactions our families have to having a blind child. One obvious reaction is that blindness is an unparalleled tragedy that cannot possibly be overcome easily, if at all. This leads to the coddling of the blind child, so the blind child cann become a rather helpless adult who stands out easily as a blind person. The very first thing about this person is his or her blindness, not the fact that he or she is a person first. The second reaction is that blindness mmust be overcome because it can easily become a tragedy if you don’t fight it every step of the way. In neither instance is it necessarily viewed in a matter-of-fact kind of way, except in relatively rare instances. I have to say that my parents made relatively few mistakes where I was concerned, but they did fall somewhere in between blindness must be overcome at all costs and being matter-of-fact. I think they became more matter of fact as I grew older and asserted myself as any naturally curious or independent child would, largely because I think they came from the foundation that blindness must first be overcome. But this foundation led to a certain kind of admitted snobbery on my part, and I have to say that there may be instances where it still exists in me. I find it difficult, sometimes extremely so, to treat with relative tolerance, people who don’t treat blindness as matter-of-factly as I do, and it does tend to make me rather cold toward such people, both sighted and blind, who don’t have my world view. I hang back from a blind person whom I think acts, for lack of a better turn of phrase, extremely blind. I still do it knowing that perhaps it isn’t necessarily completely their fault, but I’m not quite sure how to deal with it. Among the sighted, I’m very, very good at spotting patronizing behavior, so I simply don’t deal with such people. Unfortunately, it tends to show that I want nothing to do with them because I simply go about my business and ignore them except when I absolutely have no choice and I have to acknowledge their presence. Probably not cool, but it’s my first reaction. Do I need to work on that? Probably, but when one is so caught up in just living life,, making a living, paying bills, getting computer issues resolved, worrying about the small and the large stuff that has absolutely nothing to do with blindness, one simply doesn’t either find the time to work on some of these other issues or the energy to do so when one does have the time.
And no matter how we might dislike it, we stand out no matter how competent or cool or self-possessed or independent we are. The cane makes us stand out, or the dog, or the Braille book, or the fact that we’re using a computer with a screenreader and not looking at the screen as we type, or the fact that maybe sometimes we’re doing sighted guide with a friend or family member. These are all things that make us stand out as blind people; we can’t help it. And unfortunately, we have very little control over others’ reactions to us. If we’re poor travelers, if we seem less competent, if we may act inappropriately, we’re seen as pathetic, helpless, worthy of scorn. If we’re independent, if we appear confident and competent in most of what we do, we’re seen as inspirational, courageous, amazing. There’s no in-between, and this is very, very frustrating.
As blind people, we seem to judge each other and we can be more harsh than sighted people at times. It's interesting to see that negativity about blindness is present within blind circles.
Yeah, it's definitely all about balance. Living one's life exclusively in one category or the other is harmful. No one should let their disability define them. That's why, and I know I'm going to offend someone here, people who choose usernames that have something to do with their disability (TheBlindThis, BrailleThat, etc.) and/or post nothing but disability-related stuff annoy the hell out of me. I mean, could you tie yourself to your disability any more effectively than that? I was once MySpace friends with a girl whose display name was Twisted Spine. I mean, come on! If you identify yourself online by your disability, then that's all others will see. On the other hand, if you shun all things disability and stubbornly insist on having only able-bodied friends and partners, then you are not only kidding yourself about much of society's attitude toward you and failing to further the advancement of people with disabilities because you are denying yours, but you also run the risk of forming bonds that are less than meaningful because they are based primarily on a person's lack of disability. I don't think I have to worry about offending that set, because they wouldn't be caught dead on this site. lol
Becky
I agree 100 per cent with all you have said. It's sad that a person's disability has to define them. It's equally as sad when people never acknowledge their disability and act as if it is shameful.
I agree with what all of you has said so far, and I know someone who has that "you shouldn't hang around with so many blind people attitude," but sometimes, you are going to need that one blind friend to talk too about certain issues that sighted people won't understand. So, all of this hanging around sighted people to make yourself feel better stuff...I don't get it. I think that would hurt me more.
it could in some situations I guess.
As for judgment within the blind community, Yes, if you're perceived to be "acting very blind", then there are many who will judge you. And while this is not right and not productive, there is a valid, if misexpressed, justification behind it. It all goes back, as Johndy said, to how you were raised. If you're lucky, you were raised in a home where your blindness was treated as nothing more than an inconvenience, and you enjoyed the same rights, freedoms, opportunities, and dignity as your sighted peers. However, you lucky ones are sadly few and far between. You were more likely treated as if you were different, incapable, incompetent, and fragile. You were sheltered and overprotected, and as such, if you were fortunate enough to gain any degree of independence when you finally became an adult, you were totally unprepared (mentally, emotionally, socially, or otherwise) for the real world. And yes, for you, there is a difference between the isolated and protective cocoon in which you were raised and the world experienced by everyone else. And so, you're left to fend for yourself, to try and make it through the day with whatever independent living and o&m skills you've managed to acquire and retain, to try and interact with others with what precious little knowledge you have about what is socially acceptable, and to completely fall apart and wonder what the hell happened when you screw up and no one is there to hold your hand. Because you will inevitably fail at something (whether it be your first attempt at college, your first job, your first relationship, your quest to make friends, or your first attempt at financial independence), and your failure and ineptitudes will be painfully obvious. And so you will be judged, not only by the sighted people who wonder, "What the hell is wrong with so-and-so?" but also by some of those lucky few from category 1 and even by some hypocrites from your own category who refuse to acknowledge their own shortcomings and who will, therefore, inevitably fail too.
How do I know so much about all of you in Category 2? Because I was once one of you. I wasn't old enough at six months to remember my mother's reaction to the revelation that I was blind, but I'd be willing to bet a whole lot of money that she went home, cried her eyes out for 24 hours straight, smoked a whole pack of Merit Menthol Ultralites, and wondered how the hell her poor, broken, vulnerable daughter would ever be able to cope with the world. I was never made to do chores or taught to cook, so my daily living skills were few. I was sent out of my district to a school with a full-time vision teacher because my mom did not advocate for my right to accommodations at the school in my home district. This was largely responsible for my circle of friends being limited mostly to other children with disabilities. We all went to that same damn school. God, I hated that place. I was never encouraged to find a part-time job when I turned 16, and because of this, as well as my lack of an allowance, I rarely had my own money and so had no concept of budgeting. I was never allowed to go anywhere by myself ("It's just too dangerous!") and so the O&M training I received was never practiced and didn't stick. My dating life was totally and utterly nonexistent. And the sex talk? Hahahaha, you must be kidding. I never even got the alcohol and drugs talk, because surely, as a poor, broken blind person, I would never have enough of a social life to have the opportunity to partake in these things. I was dressed in whatever my mother wanted me to where, which was mostly jeans or shorts, T-shirts, and tennis shoes. When it came time for me to go to college and match my own clothes every day, she told me what colors went together, and that was it. I didn't have my own individual sense of fashion. I was never told that I should advocate for myself and stand up to those who would deny me my rights and freedoms because, of course, she was doing just that every day.
And so, I went off to college totally unprepared for the real world. And I failed. Miserably. I was such a bad housekeeper that my first roommate moved out. It wasn't long at all before I was overdrawn and in debt. I was constantly asking for help with things that I should've been able to do myself. I have no doubt that some people thought I was weird because I didn't know how to socialize properly. And I lost all of my sources of financial aid and very nearly lost my first job because I had no real sense of discipline or responsibility. And it didn't sink in that I needed to make a change until I hit rock bottom. So, I started working my way back up, and eventually, I was able to move out on my own and stay that way. I gained some more real-world experience and, with some self-teaching and with a little help from my friends, I have finally, for the most part, overcome my upbringing. There are still some things I haven't completely mastered (cooking certain things), etc.) and some things I still haven't done (still planning to learn how to climb a tree!), but I'm able to live in the real world, and if adversity hits, I'm much better-equipped to deal with it. The rest will come in time. Still, it is only recently that it struck me just how much my upbringing was responsible for my initial failures. Certainly, I have to take some responsibility. Perhaps I should've gotten my act together before I hit rock bottom. But really, when the odds are so stacked against you, you're almost sure to fail in some way.
That is why I do not view those who act "very blind" in the same condescending way as some of those lucky few and shortcoming-denying hypocrites. Instead, I try to educate them about the real world, how their actions are perceived by most of those in it, and how those perceptions reflect back on the blind population as a whole. Because like it or not, folks, they do. Since the blind make up such a small percentage of the world's population, and since, unfortunately, the majority of this minority belong to the inept, dependent, socially unaware category, it follows logically that most sighted people who meet a blind person will be left with a less than favorable impression. And because the world is full of ignorant people, this is the basis on which the general opinion of us and our abilities is formed. It's not right, and it's not fair, but it's also not untrue. Now, you may say that you can't control the prejudices of bigots. This is true. You may say that you should not have to give a damn what others think of you. This is true too. But here are the cold, hard facts: people with disabilities are still the most oppressed people in the world, and laws that are set up to fight some of the more tangible forms of this discrimination are not enforced. The stories of our fight for equal rights rarely make the news or the history books because there aren't enough of us who have overcome our upbringing to be able to effectively fight for our rights and leave an accurate picture of our value and capabilities in the minds of those who would discriminate against us.
So, if we have any hope of ever having our voices heard and winning the fight for equality and acceptance, those of us who have made it into the real world need to educate, not judge, those who haven't. And then we all need to educate the families of the next generation of people with disabilities. Am I saying that we need to try and reason with obviously closed minds? No. Am I saying that all the disabled people in the world need to go about their lives worrying about how their every single word and action will be perceived? Absolutely not. Am I suggesting that every single disabled person should drop whatever they're doing and go to work for a disability rights nonprofit? Not at all. But we do have a responsibility to, at the very least, educate, and denying this responsibility will only prolong the discrimination and lack of acceptance for all of us.
Becky
It took me so long to formulate and write those thoughts that there are three posts in between my first post and that one. I guess I've more or less decided my stance on the whole ambassador thing. lol
Oh wow Becky. That was an awesome post, and I am one of those who had to teach herself, but fortunately, this started at an early age. I would say I go into category 1. My mom is so confident in my abilities to handle myself that just a month ago, my mom just dropped me off at college. I didn't have any idea where I was going...how to get around...no o&m before I got there, she just left me there, and not bragging or anything, I'm just going to say this because I see why my mom did this...when she came back to get me...I could tell her where everything was. There was no need to stop and ask random people for help, it was all me.
It's so bad or good, that the times that I need her to do things for me, she doesn't help because I typically handle my own problems and issues. Your story has taught me that I need to be more patient, and understanding. I have to admit that I have a habit of judging other blind people who don't learn things like I do or who isn't as confident as I am. It is going to be and is soooo hard, but I feel the world can function better when everybody works together.
And, oh my god, educating everybody? That's easier said than done. It's so much easier to get rid of the ignorant people who've helped you than to explain. I figure it's better to listen to people who wants to hear what we've got to say and actually learn how we as blind people are perfectly capable of a life like they are.
And, I'm sorry if my post didn't make any sense. I promise I'm a better writer than that. That's what happens when I couldn't be bothered to open word and write well formulated paragraphs and proper reasoning.
Wow, well said indeed, Becky. I'll admit that I've been guilty of judging those blind people who fall into that second category. I was extremely bad about this as a young adult and into my 20's. I admit I wasn't raised with a lot of the skills I should have been, like managing money, housekeeping, cooking, and so on, but in my case it didn't have to do with blindness. My mother was a single Mom with three daughters, and worked full-time. It was easier for her to do all those things herself and just get them done quickly than it was for her to take the time to teach us the skills we needed. So, all three of us girls went out into the world woefully unprepared. All of us hit rock bottom in our own different ways when it came to managing our money and our lives. Thankfully the one thing Mom did insist on was my learning social skills, grooming and fashion skills, and getting an equal education as my sisters, so at least I had those advantages over many blind children. I was taught to advocate for myself in some ways, like getting needed accommodations while not expecting to be catered to, but I was not taught about advocating for equality in things like the condescending treatment of much of the sighted public. I was basically taught that as long as people had good intentions toward me, I shouldn't be offended by their treatment. My philosophy on that one developed mostly during my time at CCB. (See Godzilla's other board.) I failed pretty dramatically in a few ways as a young adult. In other ways, I had a strange advantage over my sisters in that there was a program, (in my case CCB), to teach me at least some of the skills such as proper home management and cooking, that my sisters had to learn in harder ways...like being wives and mothers and having no idea how to care for their homes and families.
Like another poster, I was raised with the impression that I was better and smarter than most other blind kids, and the unfortunate fact is, the few other blind kids I met in my early life only backed that up. They were kids who were being raised by parents who did shelter them in the extreme, who went to our state Braille school, (which even in the 80's was a horrible program), and who had no social skills, education, or any of the advantages I did. It led to me having an early disdain for other blind people. . Space camp was the first time I met any other, "normal-acting blind people," as I called them at the time. Shortly after that, when I began my first part-time job, I met a blind woman about ten years older than me who was also, "normal-acting." More than that, she was working full-time, engaged, lived on her own, maintained her home well, cooked for herself and did that well...all these things I'd been told I could do, but never shown how, and never really seen any other blind person doing. Heck, she did most of that better than my own sighted sisters. I stayed with that friend for a couple weeks several summers in high school, and she was one of my first blind mentors. I was in her wedding. When she had children, she was the first blind parent I knew, ahd again, she was a better parents than my sighted sisters were being at the time. We're still friends today, though of course as I grew older and gained my own independence, the friendship went from one of big sister and mentor to equal friends and peers.
I guess this derails a bit from Godzilla's original topic. Sorry about that. Now that I'm older, I try to be less judgmental of those blind people that were raised in less fortunate circumstances than me, and instead try to come alongside them and be a friend and mentor, as my friend was for me. But Becky, wonderful job at nailing the hard facts of why we're viewed the way we are, and what we should do about it.
Some of my best childhood memories are of tree climbing. You want to find a tree with a low, thick branch. Once you're standing on that branch you can reach the branches above it. If you think a branch is rotten or it feels like it won't bear your weight then you obviously don't want to use it. That's about all there is to it. Enjoy.
Indeed, well said by Becky. And I think the critical difference between groups 1 and groups 2 here is that in group 1, we were taught, to varying degrees and I think with varying degrees of common sense and success, to take risks. Very early on, probably when I was about eighteen or nineteen months old, my mother taught me to go up and down stairs. Perhaps it was earlier, but strangely enough, I remember that. A few months after my father passed away three years ago, we were at the home of an old family friend, and the friend was reminiscing about how my mother was a bit of a lioness where my independence was concerned. Our friend’s ex-husband apparently saw me crawling up a set of stairs one time, and he reached out and grabbed me. My mother told him to get his hands the hell off me and not do it again. So, my earliest memories were of going up and down stairs on my own. I think that led to other risks. I do remember being able to climb out of my crib. In fact, one of my earliest memories was of my doing so, going casually downstairs, sitting in the living-room of our old duplex and listening to kiddie records with my brother and sister. I had my first glass of beer when I was five, and I had your typical riding toys every kid had back when we were growing up in the late 60s/early 70s. I broke my collarbone falling down a set of stairs at my aunt’s house when I was three, learned how to climb trees when I was about six, broke my leg while riding a two-wheeler when I was seven, broke it again three years later while sliding when I was ten, did a lot of the wood-related chores when we used to have a woodstove, and was taught how to build a fire in it when I was fifteen. Did some small things escape me? Were some mistakes made? Yes. Frankly, I learned to tie the shoes a bit later than a lot of kids and never learned to mow the lawn, but the one thing was corrected and I never had to do the other because I ended up living in urban areas mmost of my life, or renting where the landlord takes care of that. Most of the other stuff I ended up figuring out on my own, through trial and experience, or by asking people how to do it. I learned the hard way about credit card debt, as some of you mmay have read in my previous posts, but the point is I learned it and was allowed the opportunity to make mistakes. Maybe that’s what differentiates us from group 2. They aren’t taught how to mmake mistakes. In fact, it sounds like the very thought of making a mistake is akin to the worst kind of disaster. Kids sometimes learn by getting hurt, screwing up, making messes. When you’re young, it seems to mme you have to be allowed to do that, and then have a parent/guardian/older person teach you the ropes. How else are you gunna learn, for pity’s sake? That’s true for sighted kids, but I think it’s especially critical for blind ones.
Holy shit, and I thought I was independent! I am not brave enough for all of that and everything you said about making mistakes and learning from them is exactly my way of thinking. lol
Johndy, it's funny that you mentioned all of those injuries you sustained while growing up, because I recently had a conversation with a friend in which I expressed my disappointment in having lived 27 years without breaking a single bone in my body, mostly because my mom didn't let me near any situation that might have resulted in that kind of thing. I told my friend that I'd rather have had the broken bones than the sheltering. So in a way, I'm jealous of you for getting hurt so much. Hahaha.
It's true that mistakes can be much more catastrophic for blind people, not only because most of us aren't taught how to correct them but also because when we make certain kinds of mistakes, such as failing out of college or getting into debt, we don't have a lot of recourses. I mean, it's not as if we can just go get a job with the same ease as our sighted peers. And when you think about it, that's a lot of pressure. Get everything right the first time, or you're screwed. It's taken me years to even get on the path to correcting my initial academic and financial mistakes, and on paper, a lot of it is still being held against me.
Voyager, thanks for the tips about climbing trees! I'll try them out if it ever stops raining here. lol
Becky
I have to say as someone in category one it makes me very emotional to see the sheltering of others. It makes me want to yell "what the fuck can I do about this?" Some parents never want to accept the fact that their precious bundle of joy is blind. This is because they were told that any disability is to be frowned upon. I wonder if things will get better?
Johndy is right about most things here. I totally relate to what you're thinking.
Becky I've never broken a bone either but I actually don't know why, considering as a kid I heard more often than not, "Stupd kid, you ought to have broken a bone for that!" or something.
I bet any of us that did take risks would have to admit that we were said to be simultaneously better than the others, and worse than the others, all at the same time. Such is the trials and tribulations of doublethink and ideology, not unique to blindness. Anything to keep people under wraps.
Once you get that figured out, you can dismiss it for what it isn't.
Collectivism is just a social construct; let it burn, people.
Well, I am definitely in Group1.
When I was 3, I got my foot stuck in the toilet. Also, I decided to ride my big wheel, which was great. I was riding down this really cool hill. I didn't know what it was, till a car horn honked in my ear, my stepdad got out and beat the shit out of me saying:
"Dammit Sarah! How many fucken times have I told you not to go in the fucking driveway? I nearly killed your ass!"
Then, it hurt like someone did kill it. LOL
I roller skated, tandomed at school, fell and sprained my ankle, used to borrow my neighbor's bike. He was five, I was short, and his bike fit me. I could feel the sidewalk, and every time I was all right. But, Mom kept yelling at me, and that time, was one of few times my stepdad defended me. "Go on!" he said. "Let her ride. He said she could, and she ain't hurting anyone. Leave her alone!"
So I knew to ride when he was around. LOL
On top of that, I fell down several sets of stairs, slid down a hill on accident, bonked my poor head many times, and gained the nickname "Egghead," by the time I was eight, because I had a bruise always that was egg-shaped on my forhead. It moved around, but I always managed to hit that poor head.
I've been thinking back on it, and wouldn't change a thing. Even though my doctor just told me yesterday, that all my "Rough-housing," and getting into sticky situations had a part to play in my getting Arthritis.
I'm 39, going on 40, and yes I'll brag that I haven't busted a bone at all! I dented my poor leg, when I fell into a grate on the street, but never broke a thing! And, that shocks me.
All that to say, I wouldn't change a thing. Yes the pain hurts, and it's not gonna vanish when a bone heals. But, I'm alive, breathing, and still care about how I live.
Blessings,
Sarah
Leo, I understand why you abhor the concept of collective responsibility. I don't like it either. It has caused centuries of pain for people of minority races, religions, sexual orientations, gender identities, etc. But I would argue that what differentiates us from those groups is that (1) as I said before, we're probably a smaller minority than any of them, and if our predominantly Category 2 upbringings are the basis on which most people's opinions of us are formed, then we will continue to be shunned and oppressed and will not be able to effectively fight for our rights, and (2) related to Point #1, we are not only largely invisible to society, but when we are acknowledged, we are shunned and discriminated against in ways different than any other group has experienced. Because of this, our fight for equality is governed by a different set of rules, and we must respond accordingly with a different approach, even if it is one that other groups and their allies might find abhorrent. We must do this until we are on equal footing with those other groups in the fight for human rights, and right now, we're a long way away.
Becky
we will only truly win the fight when human atitudes change. Could be a while folks!
Another frustrating thing I’ve been mulling over is that the less help you as a blind person actually need, and the more you shoot down the expectations of the average sighted person who knows nothing about blind people, the more of a superhuman you become, basically by default. And the more you do, the more you accomplish in life,, the more of a hero you become in the eyes of some people. Sometimes this is even true of your loved ones who should know better. Again, I speak from experience here.
I am the only blind person in my family,, and have been so since my birth. I’m sure my parents didn’t know anything about blind people until I came along. I’m not really sure why, but my mother was determined that it not be a tragedy. I’m told that for the first few months of my life, my father, though, thought it was the biggest tragedy one could endure. But in time, he came around. I never knew of this since I was far too young to remember, and I was always very close to my father.
But the one thing that mmade me uncomfortable was that the more I set out to accomplish in life and the more I actually did accomplish, the more he would say: “You know, you’re my hero.” This was something I never wanted to be. I’m nobody’s hero. What I wanted was to be average and to have the right to fail if circumstances put mme in that position. But for lack of a better turn of phrase, I think my father,, at least to a certain extent, had blinders on where blind people were concerned. He saw me, but then he sometimes saw other blind people, and I suppose he made unfavorable comparisons. Naturally they ended up being to my benefit, but they were decidedly to the detriment of some of the other blind people he met. I think he was very affected by this tour of a school for the blind my fammily had to endure when I was six, because the school system where I lived didn’t think they could do what was necessary to educate me. Needless to say,, my parents were not impressed. But the point I’m making is that I now believe he put me on a pedestal. Trouble was that even as a kkid, especially when I realized it, I also realized that when you’re put on a pedestal, you can fall off of it. And eventually, as some of you now know, that’s what happened. I did fail, either through my own bad judgment or from things just not working out. It was a combination of both. And my father admitted that he was starting to lose faith in me.
I suppose I got my own back, as some say, because I’m in a good place, but I had to tear everything down and rebuild in order to get the measure of peace and happiness I now have. But the point is that at least for a while, I did fall off that pedestal. I wonder how many times this has happened to other people. I’m sure it probably has, actually, but dare I say that it’s different when you’re blind or have some other disability? When we’re successful, when we have jobs, money, all the trappings of a so-called normal life, that makes us exceptional, above average, whatever. When we lose our jobs or quit them and try to find something else and are not successful, when we have to file for SSDI to keep our heads above water, when we’re at home most of the day such that we fit the average non-disabled person’s opinions of us, we have fallen off that pedestal that we either put ourselves on by being successful or that other people have put us on by observing us and comparing us to others with the same disability as ourselves. When I was out of work, I would’ve done anything to earn money, and in fact, I did so. I supplemented the SSDI check by doing transcriptioning, music, some online editing. Plus, I looked for work, without much in the way of success. But frankly, if I could have, I would’ve gotten a job at Starbucks or driven a cab. It was almost six years from the time I quit one job and got steady work again, and I’ve been working at the same place for three years now. But this isn’t an uncommon story. If you’re sighted, you can easily go to a Starbucks or a Potbelly’s or drive a cab or whatever, and at least you’ve got some money coming in. If you’re blind or disabled, it can take a lot longer to get a job again, whether it’s in the field you were originally working in or something completely different. And in the interim, you’ve fallen from grace because others who’ve known you for a relatively decent amount of time wonder what happened to you. Why are you fucking up? You were supposed to be exceptional. You weren’t supposed to be like all the rest of them. And on the other side of the coin, you’ve got to prove to someone you’ve never met that you can do the job you’ve applied for. Because as far as they know,, you’re a typical blind person who can’t offer very much. It’s a trap that’s very, very difficult to get out of, and sometimes I think it takes more than just a good attitude and perseverance. I know that in my case, it took a connection with a very old friend to get the job I now have, and before I started that job,, I worked nine months putting packages of gloves into boxes and putting those boxes into bigger boxes that we put onto conveyor belts. Hey, it was a paycheck even if it was minimum wage. But I had bills to pay, and for the moment there was nothing else for it but to do what I had to do. And in those nine months, trust me, I heard a lot of: “Can’t you do anything else? There are better jobs out there.” I work a customer service job now, and I still get a little bit of that, albeit not as much as I used to. Sometimes the message is you’re smarter than that. Why can’t you do what you were doing before? There are better jobs out there. Maybe so, but I don’t feel like climbing atop the pedestal anymore.
I have had people tell me that I am such an inspiration to them. I want to say, "then prove it. Get off your knees and live your life with dignity."
Well said, Johndy. Like you, my father put me on a pedestal as I grew up, and he still does. It still makes me very uncomfortable, but there's not a lot I can do about it. The interesting thing is, at one point I experienced hostility from other blind people in a job setting because of how I chose to do things. While working a customer service position, I was using a Braille display instead of speech to read the screens during calls. There were multiple blind people working there, (as there usually are in call centers), and of those I was the only Braille user. I didn't give much thought to this, I just did things the way I did them, other people did things their way. But I had this other blind guy come up to me out of nowhere and start railing at me about how apparently I thought I was some super-blind person who was above using speech, and how I just had to prove I was superior and faster on the phones than all the others, how I was arrogant because I took less help than everyone, how much better I thought I was than the other blind workers. I was pissed, to put it mildly. I'd been going along my own way, really hadn't given much thought to how the other blind workers did things, or how much help they needed or didn't need in navigating the call center, and so on. It was a busy call center, and I'd been too busy at my job to give much thought to them beyond the cursory introductions and hello's. What I subsequently learned was that this other blind guy had overheard two sighted supervisors comparing all of us, and saying that I was faster on the phones than the other blind workers, and they wondered if it was because I used Braille instead of speech. They were also making comments about how much more smoothly I navigated the environment and independent I was than the others, and even making some disparaging comments about the others, this guy in particular. I knew none of that initially, and so told this guy off in return. When I did learn of the conversation which had prompted his anger, I was of two minds. I won't lie, part of me was proud to have good things said of me. The other part was upset about those comparisons having been made between all of us, and that apparently I'd been put on some pedestal without my knowledge. I just found it interesting that one of the comparisons that got made was in how much sighted help all of us did or didn't need. Maybe it goes back to that thing where we're all supposed to be alike, and people are confused when we're not.
Yep, I hate that hero stuff too. When I graduated high school, I walked across the stage by myself, and oh my stars, people cheered...cried...and everything else. You could have sworn Beyoncé walked into the room. I was like, am I not allowed to be like everyone else? What? They expected the girl I marched in with to walk across with me or me her, and ruin her day? It did not make me happy, and it wasn't as great of a day as I wanted.
The hero thing has both good and bad elements. The best thing we can do is face forward and worry about ourselves.
The worst thing about the hero stuff is that try as you might, you can’t convince people that it’s unfounded. You just did what you were expected to do. You should get no more applause or acclaim than anyone else on that stage. It ruined my law school graduation because I got a standing ovation out of all proportion to what I actually accomplished. Blindness makes us more conspicuous than the norm as it is; we don’t need other people making things worse.